


Soiled Sheets

by deathishauntedbyhumans



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pseudo-Incest, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, mild dirty talk, no beta we die like ben
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 18:17:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20764820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathishauntedbyhumans/pseuds/deathishauntedbyhumans
Summary: Klaus gives Ben a hand.





	Soiled Sheets

**Author's Note:**

> Lmao my phone battery is at 69%

Having an erection is a _ horrible _way to start his day. 

Logically, Ben understands that it’s a part of life. He’s a growing boy, he’s going through puberty, waking up with morning wood is a normal thing that happens. Blah blah blah, ugh. Grace had given them all The Talk when Reginald had decided they were too old to ignore the changes in their own bodies. 

And while he understands it, it doesn’t make dealing with it any easier. 

It doesn’t happen as often as it could, and for that, Ben is constantly grateful. If he had to deal with trying to rub one out every morning, he’s pretty sure he would actually _ let _the Horror tear him apart like it always seems to want to when he lets it out. 

But now it’s five in the morning, and his dick is as hard as a rock, and there’s no way he’s going back to sleep. 

Fuck. 

He tries his best to will it away, but it’s a futile attempt that he gives up about a minute into concentrating on the blood that’s rushed south. Ben knows he’s good at control, but all of the control he expends is too busy keeping the Horror at bay to be spared to keep his own personal horror from becoming a problem. 

So he carefully nudges his door closed and tiptoes back to his bed. The tiny _ click _of the handle falling into place is enough to make him wince, but he’s in too much distress to worry about waking up any of his siblings with the noise. 

With only a mild sense of discomfort, Ben tugs his briefs down his hips, biting his lip when his cock springs free. This is… decidedly _ not _ how he wants to spend his morning, but he’s learned that it’s easier to just _ deal _ with the problem when it arises (_arises, _ hah, Klaus’ awful sense of humour is rubbing off on him) instead of trying to go about his day like normal. Training with a hard-on is not _ nearly _ as exciting as it sounds. 

With one hand, he awkwardly wraps his fingers around his dick. The feeling of skin-on-skin is only mildly arousing, and he huffs out a breath that’s equal parts frustrated and relieved. 

And then, his door handle jerks downwards, and Ben can only whip his head up and stare, red-handed and red-faced, at the sudden intruder. 

“Ben, I can’t sleep—“ Klaus begins to whine, but he cuts off when his gaze lands on Ben. Specifically, when his gaze lands on Ben’s face and then follows the curve of his arm down to his hand, which is still clutching at his own dick like it’s as foreign to him as the Horror. “...Oh,” he says. He does _ not, _however, stop staring. 

_ “Klaus,” _ Ben hisses in distress, finally letting go of his dick and fumbling for his blankets. He successfully manages to cover himself, but when he looks up at Klaus, it’s to find his brother staring at him with a too-interested look on his face and the door closed again behind him. “What are you doing?” he asks, and there is _ not _ a whine in his voice when he asks it, because he is _ not _desperate to get off and move on with his life. Not at all. 

Klaus saunters forward, and Ben tries very hard not to notice the smudged eyeliner surrounding his eyes or the way his hips sashay when he moves. “Do you want some help with that?” he asks instead of answering Ben’s question. 

Ben nearly chokes on air. “_What?” _

“Do you want some help with that?” Klaus repeats, gesturing helpfully at the slight tent in the blankets at Ben’s crotch. Ben blushes harder than he already is and tries to adjust the blankets further. 

“N-No?” He kicks lightly at Klaus, who’s apparently decided that personal space is a thing of the past and has plopped himself right onto Ben’s bed. “Go away!”

There’s no real force behind the words, because despite himself (despite the fact that he knows it’s wrong, it’s _ wrong) _Ben is just the teensiest bit interested in whatever it is Klaus is offering. His body is, at the very least, because he definitely felt his own dick twitch at the thought of Klaus giving him any help with it. 

“Benny-boy,” Klaus says, and it’s somehow gentle and condescending at the same time. “You look like you have no idea what you’re doing.” 

Ben bites his lip. Klaus knows him far too well for this. He deflates a little, looking down at the bedsheets. “I don’t,” he admits to the plain, boring bedspread. His flush feels like it’s spread to his chest. “Go ahead, laugh at me. I know it’s stupid.”

Before Ben is even aware that Klaus has moved, there’s a gentle hand on his calf that isn’t covered by the blanket. “It’s not,” he says, and he sounds so damn _ earnest _ that Ben makes himself look up. Klaus is looking him in the eye, his own gaze blown up wide, and he’s so achingly _ pretty _that Ben wants to melt into the sheets and never ever exist ever again. “It’s easier when someone shows you,” he says, and before Ben can comprehend the full meaning behind the statement, Klaus’ hand slips further up his leg. “Can I show you?”

Mouth dry, Ben slowly nods, and Klaus grins a wide-open smile as bright as the sun before he looks down at the blankets. Ben looks, too, so he’s able to watch as Klaus tugs the sheets back and reveals his cock again. It’s red, angry from being neglected and very, very interested in the proceedings. 

“Do you use anything?” Klaus asks without taking his eyes off Ben’s dick. Ben blinks in confusion at the question. 

“No?”

Klaus gives a little nod. “I kinda thought so. Remind me to get you some lube.” Ben is certain that he won’t be reminding Klaus to do any such thing, but then Klaus licks his own palm and any coherent thought jolts out of his mind. Instead, he watches with a sick sort of fascination as Klaus’s thin fingers wrap around his cock. 

_ “Oh,” _he breathes out, the word barely a word. Klaus grins. 

“It’s a little different when it’s someone else, too,” he says, and it sounds like an admission. 

Klaus’ hand moves slowly at first, up and down and up along his shaft. He licks his hand again when it starts feeling drier, and Ben feels a swooping sensation go through him at the sight of Klaus’s tongue lapping at his fingers. Klaus only smirks when he sees him looking. 

“Hang on, I have a better idea,” Klaus says after a minute or two. He shifts away and a whine sounds in the air; it takes Ben a few seconds to realise that the sound has come from his own throat. Klaus brushes his own bangs from his forehead, and then gestures to Ben’s pillows. “Lemme sit behind you.”

Unsure, but more than willing to chase the strange new high Klaus is introducing him to, Ben scoots forward on the mattress, leaving enough space for Klaus to climb in comfortably behind him. Klaus does so, and he leans contentedly against the pillows before tapping on Ben’s shoulders. “C’mere,” he murmurs, and Ben lets himself be pulled back against Klaus’ bony chest. 

He’s all rib, all skin and bones and no fat, but he’s _ warm, _and some primal part of Ben’s brain recognises that and only wants more. So when Klaus picks up his hand, Ben lets him manipulate their fingers until they’re interlocked with one another’s, with Klaus’ palm behind the back of his own hand. 

And then Klaus wraps their joined hands around Ben’s dick, and Ben makes a noise that feels obscenely loud in the quiet of the room. 

Klaus laughs, warm and soft, his breath puffing against Ben’s neck. “Shh,” he murmurs. “You don’t wanna wake anyone else up.” He’s stroking as he talks, up and down and up, with more intent than he had before. “Just you and me, Ben. ‘S just you and me.”

Somehow, the reminder only serves to make Ben more lightheaded, and he lets his head fall back against Klaus’ shoulder, his breath falling heavily from between parted lips. 

“That’s it, Benny-boy. Gonna make you cum, ‘kay? Gonna make you feel really good.” 

Ben isn’t sure where Klaus learned this, this murmured seduction, or _ anything _that he’s doing at the moment that feels so wildly outside the realm of anything that ever happens at the Academy, but he decides then and there that he never wants it to end. If he could take this moment, he thinks with the only brain cell still left working in his head, and put it on an endless loop, he would, and he would live in it forever and ever and never fight another bad guy again. 

Pressure builds low in his gut, and it’s both familiar and so, so achingly new. It’s never come on so fast before, and Ben bites down hard on his lip as it suddenly overwhelms him all at once. His hips jerk of their own accord as he cums, as he makes a mess of Klaus’ hands and his own sheets, and he can feel Klaus’ lips against his jaw, murmuring words he can’t quite understand and kissing weakly at the sweaty skin. 

Panting heavily, Ben collapses his full weight against Klaus, watching with bleary vision as Klaus wipes his hands on a cleaner patch of blanket. Klaus also wipes at his spent and softening cock briefly before pushing the soiled sheet onto the floor and tugging the comforter up and over both of them. 

“Wow,” Ben finds the presence to whisper. He can _ feel _Klaus grinning against the side of his neck. 

“Good?”

“Yeah,” Ben breathes back. “How… Where did you learn that?”

Klaus nuzzles his neck. “Just picked it up,” he says easily. It’s too smooth, too… _ Klaus, _but Ben is too tired to continue the line of questioning. Instead, he merely shifts until he can comfortably use Klaus’s rib-filled torso as a pillow. 

“I’m going to go back to sleep, now,” he states plainly, closing his eyes. They have a few hours left until they’re supposed to begin training, and he’s going to make the most of it if it kills him. 

Klaus’ soft, amused laughter sends him off; he curls his fingers into Klaus’ shirt as sleep claims him properly again. He’ll deal with the soiled sheets later… and he’ll deal with anything Klaus has to say to him later, too. 

(When he wakes up, finally ready to start the day, both Klaus and the sheet on the floor have managed to mysteriously disappear.) 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos/comments are love! Come scream at me on tumblr @deathishauntedbyhumans.


End file.
